


Sub Rosa

by Nochi



Series: Rita's Successor [4]
Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Anxiety, Crushes, F/F, First Dates, Love Confessions, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Mind control device, Mutual Crushes, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Repressed Memories, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nochi/pseuds/Nochi
Summary: It was just supposed to be one shopping trip, not turn everything upside-down. But it did — in more ways than one.
Relationships: Kimberly Hart/Original Character(s)
Series: Rita's Successor [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1001181
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Sam sat at the kitchen table and pulled her cereal towards her. Started to eat. Stopped, put her spoon down with a sigh of frustration, and stood, walking a lap around the table before sitting down again and finally eating. Her father watched this ritual with a bemused expression.

"Is this a new trend at school?"

Sam made a face at him. "No. My good jeans are in the laundry and this is the only other pair I have. They don't fit as well."

"'Good jeans'?" His brows knitted together. "Only other pair? We bought you like six pairs of jeans when we moved here."

"Yeah, well." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Growth spurt."

Her dad's expression shifted to _confused_ for a second before his eyebrows rose in realization. "Oh," he said faintly. "Right."

When Sam and her dad had gone shopping for school clothes, it had been for a much different frame. Since then, Sam had taken up the coin dropped by Rita after her defeat at the hands of the Power Rangers, and it had changed her from male to female, since Rita's final spell had been to ensure no man would ever wield her power. Sam still wasn't sure this was _quite_ what she'd intended, but there was no going back now. Her wardrobe had suddenly been woefully inadequate - particularly the pants. Only two of them even slightly accommodated the sudden presence of hips, and the pair she preferred had fallen victim to the muddy trail leading to the command center.

She'd gotten by with borrowing clothes from Kimberly and Trini, the only girls who knew what had happened, but the school year was taking a toll on all of them and she hadn't had the chance to make the weekly swap. Besides, none of them were shaped precisely alike, and the relief was middling at best.

"So...another trip to the mall?" Her dad shook her out of her thoughts. His voice was light, but it was the forced kind of light that meant he was trying and not at all sure he was succeeding.

"I guess so. I don't need much, just some new jeans. Maybe a couple of shirts. You know, for variety." She also needed at least one bra, but she wasn't sure her dad could handle hearing that out loud at the moment. And he really was trying. He'd only recently been made aware of both her physical changes and her status as a Power Ranger, and Sam was mildly fascinated by the way he sometimes seemed to forget she hadn't always been strictly a  _ she _ .

"Alright, we'll go this weekend. Now eat, you gotta get moving."

A glance at the clock confirmed this, and Sam wolfed down her cereal, grabbing a couple of power bars from the ever-present stash on the counter as she hurried out the door.

* * *

"Sorry," Kimberly said, watching Sam squirm in her seat in the lunchroom. "If I'd known, I would have brought a pair."

"It is what it is," Sam sighed. "I should have some new stuff by Monday, anyway. Dad's taking me shopping."

"Your dad is?" Trini asked, surprised. "Is he, y'know. Up to that?"

"Jeans should be fine," Sam said. "I figure I can slip away and grab some unmentionables at some point."

"He'll see them when you go to pay," Trini pointed out, and Sam laid her head on the table.

"I...didn't think that far ahead," she muttered into the fiberglass. "I mean, he's okay with..." she gestured vaguely at herself. "About half the time, anyway."

"Let us know if you need help," Kimberly said, smiling kindly at Sam as she sat up. Kimberly was just like that, Sam had discovered. She knew from the others that Kimberly had been the last to really open up, but now she was the one who supported them all unconditionally. There was still a nervous feeling swirling at the back of Sam's mind, but she knew Kimberly was good for the offer, and she couldn't help but return the smile.

* * *

The sign marking the entrance of the Mall at Angel Grove had a new addition, a signboard attached over the top of it that stated in large stenciled letters that this was an "OFFICIAL EVACUATION SITE". Sam's dad shook his head ruefully at it as they drove past.

"Fat lot of good it's gonna do our end of town," he said. "We'd have had to drive straight through Goldar to get here."

"I think the school's supposed to be the site for our neighborhood," Sam said. "Assuming it doesn't get stomped on."

"Again," her dad added darkly.

They headed into the department store that took up one end of the mall complex, where they'd gotten Sam's clothes before. Sam hesitated before turning towards the girl's section. She wasn't sure _why_ she was so hesitant. She was a girl. These were girl's clothes. No one was going to look at her twice. Her dad might gets some looks, but only because no one expected a dad would take his daughter clothes shopping. And yet she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was going to call her out.

Gritting her teeth, she practically dove into a rack of jeans, hoping the denim would hide her face and alleviate some of her irrational anxiety. It did, but only because she was suddenly  _ confused.  _ None of the sizes made any sense, or had any correlation to the boy's jeans she already owned. She kicked herself for not checking the sizes on the jeans she'd previously borrowed from Kimberly or Trini; they hadn't been a perfect fit but she'd at least have had somewhere to  _ start _ .

Finally, she resorted to holding pairs up to her waist to check the fit, silently apologizing to the store employees for her complete inability to put them back properly, and disappeared into the fitting room. Of the three she'd grabbed, only one fit, and she tossed the other two onto the return rack a little harder than was absolutely necessary.

She was headed back to the display with the intention of finding more like the remaining pair, but was stopped by her dad's appearance. He was leaning against the outside wall of the fitting room, hands in his pockets, staring resolutely at the ceiling. It was a look Sam had seen before, usually after a particularly bad argument between the two of them, or after he checked the bank account.

She approached him, and he gave her a fleeting smile when he noticed her.

"You alright?" she asked carefully.

"Yeah," he said brightly, then paused, his shoulders slumping after a moment.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I...I don't know. I think dads of little girls prepare for this, y'know, mentally, and I...I didn't get the chance to. Not that I'm blaming you," he added quickly. "I know it was...unexpected _._ " Sam gave a small snort of a laugh at that. "But the stuff I _was_ prepared for is suddenly useless, and I...I'm a little adrift here." The admission was made with a sigh, and he rubbed his forehead. "Uncharted territory. Literally. I don't think I've even been on this side of the store."

Sam laughed a little ruefully. "Same here." She held up the lone pair of jeans she'd managed to find. "I've got these, at least."

Her dad looked relieved, then almost immediately guilty. "Sorry, kiddo. I know you need more than just jeans." Sam flushed a little, prompting a chuckle from her dad. "I'm not completely clueless. Just not much help in this arena."

"It's fine," Sam said. "Kimberly said she'd help if I needed it. I just thought..." she looked away, shrugging a little uncomfortably. "I thought this might help," she said quietly. Her dad's hand landed on her shoulder with an affectionate squeeze.

"It was a good thought," he admitted. "Sorry it didn't work out that way."

"Eh, I got pants," Sam said, shaking off the feeling of disappointment. "And mall food."

"Who said anything about feeding you?" he replied, lifting his eyebrows. "I promised clothes, not sustenance."

"But Daaaaad," Sam replied, voice crawling upwards in a whine. "I'm  _ soooo starviiiing _ ."

It was an old joke, an imitation of Sam's most common complaint as a child, and they both laughed as they headed for the registers. The trip hadn't had exactly the outcome Sam wanted, but she felt like the rift between them, caused by the reveal of her recent life changes, was starting to heal.

* * *

She opened the group text between her and the other Rangers when she got home, tapping out a message.

>> _ who wants to help me shop for clothes _

_gross <<_

That was Zack, who always seemed to have his phone already in his hand when a text came through.

_kinda out of my wheelhouse <<_

And there was Jason. Sam hadn't really expected the boys to be too much help, anyway.

_> >same for my dad, apparently_

Kimberly's response came next:

_couldn't quite take it, huh <<_

Sam smiled a little at her phone. They _had_ warned her.

_> >he's sending me back to get what I need, but idk how to shop for girl's clothes_

_there's usually a lot of swearing involved <<_

That was Trini, and Sam's small smile turned into a snort of laughter

_> >yeah I got that part already_

_> >managed to find one whole pair of jeans_

_then you got lucky <<_

_I'd help but I'm babysitting this weekend <<_

_I'm not taking these heathens to the mall <<_

Kimberly's icon appeared at the bottom of the screen, indicating she was typing, then disappeared. Then it reappeared. This happened about three times before she finally posted her message.

_I'll go with you. <<_

Sam felt relief settle into her chest, just as her stomach did a weird little flip. She frowned at the sensation, blaming it on hunger, and turned back to the chat.

_> >you're a godsend, kim_

_just trying to be helpful <<_

The message was followed by a slew of emojis, which Trini responded to with a long line of eyerolls, and soon the chat was dominated by emojis and Jason telling them to knock it off before his phone vibrated out of existence.

They finally took mercy on the others, and Kimberly sent Sam a text privately.

_noon tomorrow? <<_

_> >sounds good_

_k, see you then <<_

Sam closed out of the messenger, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. She couldn't really remember having been one-on-one with Kimberly before. Even borrowing clothes had been done at school, passing a plastic bag from one backpack to another. It felt...weird, just the two of them making plans together. She was a little nervous - what if they wound up hating each other without the others as a buffer? - but also a little excited. A little more than a shopping trip warranted, really.

Her stomach flipped again, and she got up, intending to head into the kitchen. It didn't feel like any hunger pangs she'd had before, but that was the cause of everything else her stomach did. She just hoped it didn't happen when Kimberly was around; that seemed like it'd be embarrassing.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's dad dropped her off at the front of the mall, reminding her when he'd be back to pick her up, and she pulled out her phone to text Kimberly and find out where they were meeting.

_look up <<_

The message came through as she was typing, and she lifted her head to see Kimberly, standing in front of the mall directory with a grin. Sam grinned back, but there was a weird shiver in her stomach that she tried to suppress.  _ Seriously, what is up with my stomach lately _ , she thought in the back of her mind, pocketing her phone.

"I see you're prepared," she said once she was near enough to be heard over the general din of the mall crowds. Kimberly laughed a little, flashing the Girl Scout salute at her.

"Where'd you wanna start?" she asked, turning around to face the mall directory. Sam stared up at the glowing panel, with its seemingly endless list of stores, and finally indicated the big department store at the other end of the building.

"This is where me and my dad went yesterday." She stuck a thumb through the belt loop of her jeans and tugged at them. "Where I got these."

"Ew," Kimberly said. "No wonder you had so much trouble. Come on, this place is a little pricier, but the selection is loads better." She tapped a location on the map and flashed Sam another smile as they headed for the escalators.

* * *

"You said a _little_ pricier," Sam said, staring at the price tag on the pair of jeans Kimberly had handed her.

"Well, I mean. You get what you pay for, right?" There was that smile again, almost too bright in the dim lights of the small shop. "They're the same size as what you've got, but they ought to fit a little better. I have better luck with this brand, anyway." She shooed Sam towards the fitting room. "Go try them on."

Kimberly followed her, sitting on a bench just outside the fitting room. "I guess it's a good thing the others ditched us, huh," she called into the stall. "I don't think we'd all have fit in here."

"In the fitting room?" Sam called back, voice teasing. Kimberly smacked the stall door.

"You know what I mean. Besides," and her voice got a little softer now. "I don't think we've ever hung out. Just the two of us, I mean."

"I don't think I've ever really hung out one-on-one with any of you guys."

There was a pause while Kimberly thought that over. "I guess you're right. Lucky me," she said brightly, and Sam laughed a little.

"That's the first time anyone's ever considered themselves lucky to be around me." The sentence ended in a little grunt as Sam hoisted the jeans up over her hips. "Oof."

"Too tight?"

"Just a smidge."

"Alright, we'll try the next size up."

Sam emerged from the room with her original clothes on, and Kimberly took the too-small pants from her. "Is clothes shopping always like this?" Sam asked

"Like what?" Kimberly already had her head stuck in the rack of jeans.

"Like...a science experiment. Trial and error until you find something that works."

Kimberly emerged with an eyeroll and another pair of pants. "I have a whole _seminar_ on why the women's clothing industry is manipulative bullshit. I'll save it for after we get you situated. Don't want to scare you off."

"I punched Zedd in the face with my bare hands," Sam said, low and under her breath.

"Try it on Levi Strauss next," Kimberly said, handing her the jeans. "Next experiment."

They eventually found two more pairs of jeans that more or less fit, and Kimberly beamed at her. "See? Science works. Eventually."

"Yeah, by making me never want to put on another pair of jeans in my life," Sam retorted.

"Then it's a good thing we're done with jeans. What's next?"

Sam didn't answer, and Kimberly turned around to face her. "Sam?"

"Huh?" Sam shook herself out of whatever reverie she'd been in, and Kimberly followed her gaze to a rack full of skirts.

She smiled, softly and kindly. "We could try some on, if you want."

Sam shook her head a little harder than was strictly necessary. "Baby steps," she said. "Plus, uh. I'm on a pretty strict budget today."

"I'm not sure what you'd even _do_ in a skirt." That was neither Kimberly nor Sam, and they looked around for the source in confusion. Kimberly spotted it first, and her mouth settled into a hard line. Following her gaze, Sam saw Amanda - someone she knew mostly by reputation, through Kimberly. She glanced over and caught Kimberly's expression, wary defensiveness but also a sort of...resignation, she thought. Like she knew what was coming and wasn't going to fight it.

Amanda was still talking, gesturing at Sam now. "I'm pretty sure your body would just shut down if you were in anything but grody jeans and a grody t-shirt. You look like you're on your way to paint a house, like, all the time."

Sam watched the resignation in Kimberly's eyes flare into a defensive anger. "Leave her alone, Amanda."

"Oh, is this your  _ friend _ ?" She sneered out the last word, turning back to Sam. "You should know how she treats her  _ friends _ ."

"I said  _ leave her alone _ ."

"Don't want me airing all your dirty secrets? I wonder what that could _possibly_ feel like."

Kimberly stepped forward, putting herself directly between Amanda and Sam, even as Sam opened her mouth to tell Amanda exactly where she could shove it. "She's got nothing to do with that," she said quietly, so quietly that Sam almost didn't hear it. "Leave her out of it. Leave her alone."

Amanda narrowed her eyes, then flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Whatever. She'll find out _exactly_ who you are soon enough." A cruel smile curled across her face. "And then everyone will find out about _her_." She turned on her heel and exited the store, her friends following her like a small blonde cloud.

Sam tried to suppress the cold shiver that ran through her at the threat. Who'd find out what? What could Amanda possibly know about her? Most people at school hadn't even registered that she'd changed, she'd faded into the background so well before.

Kimberly exhaled in one long, slow breath, turning back to Sam. "Sorry," she said, almost whispering.

"Don't be," Sam said, managing a small smile that she hoped was reassuring. "It's not like you summoned her. Besides, talk about an empty threat; she doesn't know shit about me." She tried to inject confidence into the statement that she didn't feel.

"Sometimes I feel like my _existence_ summons her," Kimberly muttered. Shaking her head, she reached out and grabbed Sam's arm. "But you're right, she doesn't know shit. And whatever that necklace is that she's wearing is ugly as sin. Come on, let's check out. We've got other places to be."

Sam looked over her shoulder as she was pulled towards the register, spotting Amanda in a shop across the corridor. Something was _off_ about her. Not just her general cruelty, but something intangible, that Sam couldn't place. She turned back around to pay, putting it out of her mind for the moment. Kim was right; they had a lot to get done. And even besides that, she wasn't going to let a walking vendetta with bad taste in jewelry ruin her date.

 _Day. Day out. Day out with Kimberly._ She fumbled her card at the mental typo, and Kimberly retrieved it for her with an affectionate "Butterfingers."

Sam laughed, a little nervously, not trusting herself to give any other response. _Where did_ that _come from?  
_

* * *

There was another store that sold tops, apparently preferable to the last one they'd been to. Sam headed for the tshirts first, out of instinct. But her hands stilled on the rack, Amanda's taunts echoing in the back of her mind.

"Get what you want." Kimberly had apparently noticed her hesitation, and her voice was fierce behind Sam. "You decide what makes you comfortable. You decide what you like."

It still took Sam a moment to continue rifling through the racks, finally coming up with a few things she liked. She tended towards the plain and loose-fitting, mainly, but a couple of the things she came out with were a more fitted cut.

"You wanna try those on?" Kimberly asked. "Those babydoll cuts can be deceiving. Even the loose ones might sit differently on you now."

"Babydoll?" Sam asked, lifting an eyebrow. Kimberly shrugged expansively, and Sam shook her head as she headed to the fitting rooms.

All the shirts fit her well enough, save the very last one. It had seemed roomy enough when she picked it up, but it was uncomfortably tight and she struggled to get it back over her head. She more or less flung it back at the rack when she emerged, and Kimberly laughed.

"There's always one, huh?"

"Apparently." Sam glared at the offending garment as Kimberly moved over and picked it up.

"I can't leave stuff like that," she admitted. "I used to work at a place like this. It takes more time to fix than you think."

"I didn't know that," Sam said, a little surprised, realizing that Kimberly never really talked about that sort of thing. "That you worked retail."

"It was a while ago." Kimberly shrugged, putting the shirt back on the rack. "And only for a couple of months." She flashed Sam another smile, but it was a little strained and a little uncomfortable. "I did it mostly to get me out of the house, to be honest."

"Why only a couple of months?" Sam asked, trying to sound non-committal, not wanting to give away that she was actually fascinated at this reveal of Kimberly's past. Kimberly shrugged again.

"I found out I don't like being told what to do," she said, clearly trying to sound indifferent, but there was a thread of discord underneath.

Sam glanced out of the front of the shop, partially to try to give Kimberly a moment of relative privacy. Across the corridor she caught a glimpse of blonde, then slightly to the left, she made eye contact with Amanda. The others turned almost as a single unit, all staring directly at Sam. A shiver ran down her spine at the collective stare, the almost inhuman weight and blankness of their expressions. She turned away first, though it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up to turn her back and know they were still staring a hole through her.

"I'll just get these," she told Kimberly, holding up the handful of shirts she'd already picked out. "Most of my shirts are still okay."

"Okay." Kimberly nodded, much too quickly, smoothing out the shirt she'd folded neatly and placed back on the display. "Sure, that's fine."

Sam paused, frowning. Kimberly wasn't looking at her, and had a tight, unhappy look on her face. She looked down at the shirts in her hand, and the bag holding her jeans, and suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over her.  _ What if they have a point _ ? whispered a voice in the back of her head, and the longer she stood there the more traction it gained. What was she playing at? She should just make do with what she already had at home - the jeans seemed like a waste now. She was never going to look  _ right _ .

"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm - I've got enough. I'll put these back and we can go."

Kimberly's head snapped around. " _No_ ," she said fiercely. "This is _not_ because of you." She reached over, laying her hand on Sam's arm to stop her from laying the shirts down. "Fuck whatever they're saying. You deserve to have things that fit you, clothes of your own. Whatever _you_ like, what _you_ feel comfortable in. Don't let them get in your head." Her hand was gripping Sam's arm lightly, the pressure of it a comfort, and the epicenter of a slow warmth that spread through her. More than that, her insistence burned through some of the fog that had fallen over her, like she'd known exactly what Sam was thinking. "You deserve to hang out with - with your friends," she ended, stumbling over the last bit and seeming to lose some of her confidence. "Fuck them. Is my point."

"I mean, if you think it'll help." The quip fell from Sam's mouth before her brain could catch it, but the smile that spread across Kimberly's face seemed worth it. Sam couldn't help but respond, and they both succumbed to a small giggle fit. Sam glanced over at Amanda and her crew, finding that they had turned their backs and seemed to be talking amongst themselves.

They stood there for a long moment as the giggles subsided, until they were mostly just smiling at each other. As the moment stretched on, Sam felt an awkward energy start to grow between them, and Kimberly seemed to realize she was still holding Sam's arm. The hand slipped away, and Sam found herself missing the warmth of it. She cleared her throat as she turned back towards the register with a fluttering feeling in her chest. "I'll just. Go check out."

"Yeah," Kimberly replied quickly. "I'll wait for you."

"Cool. Thanks." Sam scurried towards the register before she could say anything else, feeling a flush growing across her cheeks as she did. Kimberly had cut right through to what was bothering her, like she'd had the same thought at the same time. "Too many movies," she muttered to herself. First the day/date slip earlier, and now this? Her affinity for romantic comedies was becoming her downfall. Or maybe it was a Ranger thing, the connection between them heightening their perception of each other's emotions. It'd explain how quickly things had gotten awkward between them.  _ That can happen, right? That's probably definitely a Ranger thing. It's fine. We're fine. _

But her arm was still warm where Kimberly's palm had rested, and her stomach did that weird little flip again, and she wasn't sure she could blame it on hunger this time.

* * *

The last thing Sam needed was a bra, and she was pretty sure she was going to self-combust from embarrassment before they even made it in the door. And she wasn't even sure  _ why _ . She was wearing a bra Kimberly had loaned her at that very moment, why was the concept of going into a bra store with her so daunting?

It was only mildly reassuring that Kimberly seemed to be in the same boat. "This is the kind I usually get," she said, gesturing at a nearby rack. "But, uh, if you wanna get fitted, you can do that too." Another gesture, towards the back of the store.

Sam entertained the mental image of a stranger going over her with a tape measure for about five seconds before she had a full-body anxiety shiver in response, and a second one when she factored in Kimberly's presence.

"No, this should be fine." Sam was speaking too quickly, and was uncomfortably aware of it. She quickly checked the size, confirmed it was the same as the one she was currently wearing - she'd learned to check sizes beforehand - and paid for it within five minutes.

"Wanna get food?" she asked, and Kimberly nodded fervently, much to Sam's immense relief.

They sat across from each other at a small table in the food court, trying to arrange their trays to where they'd both fit. Finally they gave up, stacking the trays one on top of the other and sharing the space.

"Sorry," Kimberly said halfway through the meal.

"For what?" Sam asked, setting her drink down.

"Amanda," Kimberly said, slumping even as she said the name.

"That's not your fault," Sam repeated herself from earlier, but Kimberly was already shaking her head.

" _I_ deserve whatever Amanda throws at me," she said. "I fucked up. I'll take my medicine." Her expression turned fierce again, the same protectiveness she'd had when facing down Amanda in the store. "But _you_ haven't done anything. I'm not going to let her go after you."

Sam opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. Not only did Kimberly's expression brook no argument, but Sam was distracted by a warmth gathering in her chest and spreading through her. Not the stomach-flipping of before, a more steady and secure sort of feeling. There was no mistaking this for hunger. She _liked_ that Kimberly was being protective of her, even as she felt the same defensiveness on Kimberly's behalf. And there was something about her expression that Sam couldn't define - maybe the fire that lit in her eyes, or maybe the line of her jaw - that she was pretty sure she could look at all day.

Somewhere in her mind, that thought collided with the "date" slip from earlier, and the arm-grabbing in the shop, and culminated in a realization so sudden and so bright she was honestly surprised there wasn't a literal lightbulb over her head.

A voice in the back of her mind said, very quietly but with great conviction,  _ Oh. _

_Oh, shit._

She'd been quiet for too long, and she shook herself back into the present, hoping the flush growing on her cheeks wasn't visible to Kimberly. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment," she said, trying to wrangle her voice into something casual, "There's a limit to how much punishment anyone deserves. You know that, right?"

Kimberly looked away, taking a long pull on her drink. After a moment's hesitation, Sam reached over, intending to rest her hand on her wrist. She was hyper-aware of everything at the moment, especially in regards to herself and Kimberly and how they existed in the same space, but she still wanted to keep Kimberly from drowning in her own mind. As she leaned forward, however, her gaze drifted past Kimberly, to the background. Leaning against the wall leading into the bathrooms was Amanda,  _ again _ . The others were standing around her, and they all had their eyes fixed directly on Sam. Her skin crawled, and she wound up with her hand hovering over the table as she met that gaze as evenly as she could.

Kimberly looked back at her, frowning as she set her drink down. "What are you - " She turned around, spotted the group, and in profile Sam saw her jaw clench tightly. Her hands balled up into fists, and she started to stand from her chair.

"Don't." Sam did grab her arm then, fingers loose around her wrist, but enough to stop her. "Don't...that." There was _something_ in the back of her head now, besides the voice that had been piping up every time Kimberly did something even remotely charming all day. There something trying to push through. It made trying to get English out a challenge, and she pressed her lips tightly together as Kimberly sat back down.

"Are you okay?" Sam's hand was still around her wrist, and with a small moment of hesitation, Kimberly laid her hand over it. The soft warmth of her hand closing around Sam's brought her back a little, out of the excavation she was trying to perform in the back of her mind.

"I'm..." Sam paused. She'd started to say  _ fine _ , but that wasn't strictly true. A headache was starting to form behind her eyes. "I'm not sure."

"Is it, y'know." She tipped her head backwards, indicating the blonde cloud. Sam shook her head.

"No. Well. Not exactly." She made a small noise of frustration. The intrusion was like a cat in a bag, writhing behind the black but never quite breaking through. The warm, slight pressure of Kimberly's hand on hers was like an anchor, keeping her from getting pulled in too deeply. "It's...like a memory. Not one of mine," she added slowly, and Kimberly's eyes went wide again.

"I thought she was - "

"She is," Sam assured her. The pressure on her mind wasn't the overbearance Rita had once used in an attempt to take her over. "It's just....like trying to remember something from when you were a kid. It's there but it's...blocked by something." She shook her head. "It might just be a latent memory trying to process. It happens. I'll have a weird dream tonight and it'll be done with."

"You still get her memories?" Kimberly asked. She was frowning again.

"Sometimes. Zordon says it's my mind trying to process all of Rita's junk into a format it can handle." She paused. "It's trying to put Rita in a zip file."

Kimberly cracked a grin then, and they both laughed a little.

"As long as she's not still hurting you," Kimberly said softly, and looked down, her hair hanging in front of her face.

They both noticed at the same time that they were, essentially, holding hands, and jumped away from each other like they'd each suddenly become molten lava.

"We should, um." Kimberly looked away, but Sam could still see the flush that started in her neck. "We should call the others. There's an arcade near here, we could hang out for a little bit."

"That sounds like fun," Sam said, a little too loudly and a little too quickly. Her own face was burning much too hotly for her to hope that it wasn't visible, but the fact that Kimberly was _also_ blushing was quietly filed away for later consideration.


	3. Chapter 3

They took the bus to Kimberly's place first - no sense in buying new clothes if she wasn't going to wear them, was Kimberly's argument, and Sam found she couldn't really disagree. The butterfly trapped somewhere between her chest and her throat didn't have much to contribute, either.

They laid all of Sam's purchases out on the bed, Kimberly looking them over with a critical eye before grabbing a top and an pair of jeans and handing them to Sam.

"These," she said with an air of finality, and Sam laughed.

"Yes."

"These specific ones."

"They're the best ones."

"Then why'd I buy the others?"

"Variety is the spice of life," Kimberly sing-songed, and shooed Sam into the bathroom to change.

She'd seemed to regain some of her footing on the trip from the mall, Sam realized. She had that confidence back, the one that shone out of her every time Sam looked at her.

The confidence that apparently had Sam completely head-over-heels.

She sat on the toilet lid for a moment, staring at the clothes in her hands. This was friend stuff. This was what girls did when they were friends. They went shopping. They got food.

They blushed when they talked to each other. Or touched each other. Or got within ten feet of each other.

And the worst part was, in hindsight, this had been a thing for a while. Everything had just been so nuts for the past few months that she'd never had the spare cycles to think about it, and now she was playing catch-up.

"It's fine," she whispered, not knowing how thin the walls might be. "You've had crushes before. This is fine. You'll deal."

There was also the fact that Kimberly seemed to be acting the same way she was. But she wasn't acting on it (if it was indeed anything to act on, and not Sam drastically misreading the situation), and that made Sam hesitant to say anything, herself.

"You'll deal," she said again. The words were a lot steadier than she felt, as she changed into the clothes Kimberly had picked out, and she stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment. She already knew they fit, but she'd been much more focused on that than how they looked when she'd tried them on. She looked...normal. Like any other girl at her school.

The thought made a slow smile spread across her face. Looking normal made her  _ feel  _ normal, even with the translucent green stone in her pocket that marked her as definitively  _ not _ . It chased away the anxiety she'd felt earlier, and she stood a little straighter as a result.

She walked out of the bathroom still wearing the smile, and Kimberly matched it as she looked up from her phone.

"I take it you like them?"

"Yeah," Sam said brightly. "I really do."

"You look great," Kimberly told her, a flush immediately showing around the collar of her shirt. "In the clothes. I mean, not that you don't usually look good. Just." She clapped a hand over her face, leaning over to hide even further.

"Hey, I can take a compliment," Sam said, a similar blush growing on her own face. "Thanks."

"No problem," Kimberly said, though it was muffled by her hand. She sat up, rubbing at her forehead, and smiled back up at Sam. After a moment, though, she tilted her head. "Oh, your ponytail got messed up. I guess from all the shirt-changing." Sam reached up, feeling where the hair had escaped the elastic and frizzed everywhere. "Want me to fix it?"

"I mean, if you don't mind."

"Of course not," Kimberly said, gesturing at her desk chair.

Sam sat, pulling the band from around her ponytail. Kim took the brush and ran it through her hair, apologizing quietly when she caught a tangle. Sam sat stock still, like she'd scare Kimberly off if she moved too suddenly. There was a certain irony, she realized, to her being in this situation not five minutes after she'd had to talk herself out of anxiety in the bathroom.

"Ah!" She pulled forward a little as Kimberly found a particularly tough tangle.

"Sorry!" Kimberly pulled the brush free and worked the tangle out with her fingers, smoothing the hair out afterwards. She reached for the brush, but didn't use it, just toying with the ends of Sam's hair.

"...Kimberly?" Sam said softly after a moment, and Kimberly startled out of whatever reverie she'd been in.

"Sorry," she said again, and quickly smoothed Sam's hair back into a neater ponytail than it had been in before. "There, all done."

"Thanks," Sam said, standing from the desk. "I should get you to do this all the time."

"I'd be okay with that," Kimberly said, grinning.

They stood there for a moment, before Kimberly's phone went off and they both jumped as Kimberly picked it up to check the screen.

"Oh! They're there already!" The two of them got their stuff together and sped back out the door, Sam taking an extra second to glance at herself in the hall mirror, and smiling again at what she found.

* * *

They walked rather than waiting on the bus again - Kimberly's house wasn't terribly far from the shopping center the arcade was in. Their conversation turned to idle chit-chat - tv, school gossip, the moves they've been working on in sparring. Sam gave an overdramatic pantomime of a throw that left Kimberly laughing.

"I can't believe I was worried about us hanging out," she said, smiling a little guiltily.

"You were worried too?" Sam asked, pulling a face when she realized she'd given herself away in her surprise.

"Yeah. It's stupid, isn't it?" she shook her head. "We'd just never been one-on-one before, without the others. I didn't want you to hate me."

"You've been inside my head," Sam said, mock-accusing. "I spent all last night worrying about sticking my foot down my throat."

"You haven't so far," Kimberly assured her, tossing her hair back and smiling at Sam. "I've had fun."

"Me too." Sam returned the smile, feeling her heart skip at the fond smile. "I like being with you."

That was absolutely not how she had intended to phrase that sentiment, and she felt herself go immediately crimson. A sideways glance at Kimberly showed a small, almost embarrassed smile.

"I like being with you, too," she said quietly. "You've been really good for me today."

"Yeah?" There was a little superball of anxiety bouncing around in Sam's chest, and she was honestly worried that Kimberly could hear her heart pounding.

"Yeah." Kimberly sat up, looking up rather than at Sam. "I either would have knocked Amanda's block off or let myself get bitched out and gone home miserable. Instead," and she did look over at Sam now. "I got to go shopping with you, and have a pretty good time." The smile grew, though it was still a nervous expression. "You...ground me, I guess. Keep me from going off."

"I don't think I've ever been the level-headed one," Sam said, a nervous giggle escaping her. "I could get used to it."

"So could I," Kimberly said softly, her smile growing more fond, and she leaned slightly so that her shoulder bumped against Sam's.

It was even lighter contact than they'd had earlier, but Sam's heart still beat even harder, somehow doubling from its earlier nervous racing. She wondered briefly if Rangers could die of tachycardia. Or just pure anxiety, as the superball in her stomach doubled its efforts.

_ It'd probably be worth it _ , she decided a moment later.  


* * *

Trini had been released from babysitting duty when her parents returned home, and was waiting outside with the others when Kimberly and Sam finally made it to the arcade. They pooled their money for a couple of cups of tokens, and Zack immediately crowed a challenge to Trini as they dashed towards the dance machines. The others followed, egging each of them on in turn, until Zack emerged victorious and Trini cried out with accusations of cheating in the background. In their little cluster, no one noticed that Sam and Kimberly were never more than an arm's length from each other.

Billy seated himself in front of an adventure game, excitedly telling the others that he played it every chance he got, and progressed a little farther every time. He died the first three rounds ("I'm just warming up," he told the others, as they handed him another token) but soon settled into a rhythm that had him easily skirting past each obstacle.

"This is the farthest I've gotten!" he told the others excitedly at one point, and they watched eagerly, without the cheering they'd done at the dance machine, as so not to break his concentration.

At a particularly close call, Kimberly gasped, linking her arms around one of Sam's. Sam looked down, surprised, then just smiled and laid her hand over Kimberly's.

Billy fell to the last boss, and the others groaned in unison, while still congratulating Billy for getting as far as he did.

"You gonna try again?" Jason asked, but Billy shook his head.

"That's a lot of stress to go through twice."

"Is there nowhere I can escape you?" Sam felt Kimberly tense, and rolled her own eyes as they all turned to see Amanda and her posse standing at the front of the row, Amanda's arms crossed over her chest. "I see you called for backup."

"We're her  _ friends _ ," Jason said flatly. Kimberly looked away from Amanda to look at Sam, who had stiffened when she saw Amanda.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"Something's wrong," Sam replied. "With them. That's not..." She clenched her jaw, struggling for words. "They're not human. I don't think that's Amanda."

Kimberly looked back at them, Amanda squaring up with Jason now. "How do you know?"

Sam rubbed at her temple with her free hand. "It's this memory," she muttered. "The one trying to break through. It recognizes them. Not _them_ them. What they are. Or what they're doing. _Something_." Frustrated, she gestured with her chin. "Look at their eyes."

Kimberly did so, sucking in a small breath when she saw what Sam saw. Flat, inhuman gazes. No emotion, other than Amanda, whose irritation was a pale mimicry. She moved away from Sam to whisper in Trini's ear, who stiffened with the same realization, and moved to relay the information to Billy. The game of telephone went around the whole group, until Sam heard Zack mutter to Jason: "We gotta take this outside. They're not human."

"Yeah, I picked up on that," Jason said tightly. "She hasn't blinked since she came in here."

Kimberly shoved her way to the front of the group, getting in "Amanda's" face. Sam's heart lept in sudden fear, but the simulacrum made no move against her.

"I'm really tired," Kimberly said through gritted teeth, "of you following me around. You wanna do something? Let's go outside and  _ do something _ ."

"Amanda" narrowed her eyes, as did the others behind her. A nearby machine sparked and popped, the screen going dark. Neither Kimberly nor her opponent reacted.

"Alright," came the sudden response, the voice far too light. "Let's go outside."

The imitations led the way outside, as Sam jogged up next to Kim and caught her by the elbow.

"I assume you have a plan," she hissed.

"I was kind of hoping you did," she said, sounding rattled.

"Kimberly - "

"I had to get them outside, okay?" She spared a sharp look over at Sam. "I figure if whatever they are decided to look like Amanda, they're coming after  _ me _ . So if I got in her - its - face, they'd go with it."

Sam sighed, but didn't let go of Kimberly's arm.

"So the plan beyond this is 'punch real hard and hope it works'?" That was Jason, a little behind them.

"It's gotten us through worse," Kimberly said, a patina of confidence over nervousness Sam shared wholeheartedly.

* * *

The rear parking was completely vacant, and the two groups squared off across the cracked pavement.

"Okay," the false Amanda said. "We're outside. What do you  _ want _ ."

"We know you're not human," Kimberly said, and "Amanda's" eyes widened. She held that expression for a few moments until a laugh exploded forth.

"Are you serious?" she turned to the others, bewildered. "She really has lost her mind."

She suddenly sounded authentic enough that Sam worried she'd been wrong. Maybe Amanda just really was that persistent. Maybe her cronies just really were that blank.

The anxiety seeped in, making her feel cold from the toes up.  _ You've fucked up before _ , the voice whispered.  _ This is just one more thing you ruined. Now she's gonna go back to school and tell everyone what crackpots you all are, trying to fight aliens behind an arcade... _

A glance around her showed looks of concern and confusion - if not outright despair - on the others' faces...except for Billy. He was shaking his head hard.

"Guys. Guys, don't listen. It's some kind of mind trick." He grabbed Jason and Zack by a shoulder each. "Guys, they're trying to make you give up before we can fight them.  _ Guys _ ."

Sam turned her attention inward, pushing the anxiety away and focusing on it from a mental distance, tracing it to its source. She _knew_ anxiety, and despair, and hopelessness, and none of what she felt now was _hers_. Not her familiar foe, but something from outside. Her spine straightened, the intrusion having lost its foothold as soon as she realized what it was, and chased away by her anger at yet another enemy trying to affect her mind.

And then whatever memory had been trying to burst through  _ did,  _ and she cried out a little as the resulting flow of information overwhelmed her senses momentarily.  _ A crystal of some kind...a different kind of mind control...a failsafe, just in case... _

"Shit," she gasped, and when she came back to herself she realized that she was on her hands and knees on the ground, and Kimberly's arm was over her shoulders, protectively.

"They're human," she muttered, still trying to blink away the migraine that was the result of her newfound - or recalled - knowledge.

"But you said - "

"I _know_ what I said," Sam growled, speaking over Zack. "I was _wrong_. I remember - _Rita_ remembered - something Zedd was planning." She nodded towards the group, which hadn't reacted at all to her outburst. "I think they're it. They're human, they're exactly who they look like, but Zedd's affected them. Made them...worse. Stronger." She shook her head, immediately regretting the action as her head throbbed. "Made them like us."

" _What?"_ That was almost in unison from the entire group.

"They're built like Rangers now," Sam muttered, forcing herself to stand up. Kimberly moved with her, keeping her arm around Sam's shoulders. Sam gave her a fleeting smile, and received one in return. "We have to be careful."

"Yeah,  _ Kim. _ " The fake's voice was mocking now, as it interrupted Sam. "Listen to your dyke girlfriend, she kn -"

Sam blinked, and Amanda was on the ground, blocking her face from Kimberly's attacks. The crowd behind her spread out, and surged forward almost as a single unit. The Rangers responded in kind, meeting them in the middle of the lot.

Sam rapidly discovered that Zedd's agents were almost exactly like Rangers; a low-strength punch garnered absolutely no reaction, whereas a full-strength strike left them reeling slightly. She received the same in turn, coughing after a stiff strike to the solar plexus.

"What do you  _ want _ ," she wheezed, dodging a follow-up attack.

"To follow Lord Zedd's orders," he said simply.

"Which are?" She had to practically limbo under the next strike, and got her legs knocked out from under her for her trouble.

"Destroy the Rangers," he responded, in a tone that suggested it should have been obvious, and aimed a stomp at her face that she barely rolled out of the way in time to avoid.

She caught a glance of Kimberly as she stood. She had Amanda pinned, sitting on her chest, and was raining down blows that completely ignored Amanda's attempts to defend herself. She had enough time for a brief smile and a flash of pride before a grunt of exertion warned her of the incoming strike.

She wasn't sure how long the battle went on, just that the sky was growing darker the longer it lasted, and a vague (but growing) worry in the back of her mind that her dad was going to get to the mall and she wouldn't be there when he did.

_ We're too evenly matched _ , she thought, a little desperately.  _ Whatever Zedd did, he's good at it.  _ The others seemed to be having similar thoughts, as she could see them going on the defensive around her.

Except for Kimberly. She and Amanda were in the middle of the lot, still trading blows, Kimberly not giving an inch.

"What do you  _ want _ ," Kimberly asked, the same question Sam had posed to her own opponent.

"We want what Lord Zedd wants."

"And what is  _ that _ ?"

Sam had been expecting the same answer she'd heard earlier. But Amanda didn't say anything, merely caught Kimberly's foot in mid-air...and looked over at Sam.

The others followed her gaze, and as though they'd choreographed it, left their own fights to pile onto Sam. She jumped back, trying to avoid the scrum, but she wasn't fast enough. The others' shouting was drowned out by the press of bodies as she rolled into a ball, trying to protect her face and ribs from so many attackers.

This close, she could _feel_ Zedd's influence, her own mind instinctively recoiling. Dark, deep magic flowed through them and around her, as though forming a bubble, a thin skin between them and the rest of the world.

_ It's enough, now _ . A voice whispered in the back of her mind.  _ There are too many. And even if you beat them, there will always be more. Zedd's power is infinite. He can turn the whole town against you if he wants. _

Then why _doesn't_ he, Sam wondered, realizing the answer almost as soon as the thought came to her. _I defied him. Even more than the others. I, personally, defied him._

The voice continued. _He will destroy you. He will ruin your life here and everything and everyone you love will come to despise you and you will come to him and bring the Zeo crystal with you_ -

It was one long, unbroken sentence, the oppressive feeling in her mind growing heavier and heavier as time went on. _Just give up._ She was horrified to realize that was _her_ thought. _They were gonna find out eventually..._

She struggled against the feeling like she had earlier, trying to find its source and kick it out of her mind. But she just ran around in mental circles, until she finally realized it wasn't  _ in  _ her mind. The center of that oppressive power, that awful, draining sensation, was somewhere outside. Somewhere directly over her head, in fact.

She risked cracking one eye open, and saw Amanda looming over her. The others were dragging on her arms, trying to pull her away, with Amanda's cronies trying to fight them off. So Sam had ample opportunity to reach up and snatch the necklace from around Amanda's neck.

Amanda looked down, face twisting in rage, and dove at her - but not before Sam smashed the necklace against the pavement.

It wasn't as dramatic as Sam had expected - the stone didn't shatter or anything, just kind of cracked through the center. But she felt _something_ escape as it did, and the press of bodies around her stilled, then fell limp as the five of them all collapsed at once - on top of Sam.

"Augh," she commented, and the others pulled them off of her, laying them out on the pavement.

"What the  _ fuck _ ," was Zack's emphatic reaction, and Sam had half a second to silently agree before Kimberly was on her knees next to her, muttering "oh god" under her breath a thousand times a second, pulling Sam up off the pavement and wrapping her arms around her.

"I'm fine," Sam assured her, though she was already trying to concoct excuses for bruises she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to hide from her father. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Kimberly pulled back, meeting her eyes for a long moment, then just leaned in to press her forehead against Sam's.

"You know what I want?" she said suddenly, not pulling away. "I wanna go to the beach."

"The beach," Jason said, humor clear in his voice.

"Yes. The beach." Sam pulled away from Kimberly. "I'm tired and I hurt and I wanna go to the beach."

"Uh, are you forgetting something?" Trini asked, gesturing at the collection of passed-out bodies. "We can't leave them here."

"We could," Sam suggested, and it was only mostly sarcastic. Jason gave her a look of mingled reproval and sympathy. "Everybody grab one, we'll drop them off at the police station."

"What if they remember us?" Billy asked. Jason shrugged, though his expression was a little uncomfortable.

"I don't think they will," Sam said, looking down at the cracked stone she still held in her hand. "I think they were...completely overwritten. That was the original intention, anyway, as Rita remembers it."

"I'm not sure there's much we can do about it either way," Kimberly said. "Unless someone knows how to erase memories and didn't tell me."

"Alright," Billy said, but his forehead was still creased with a frown. "Police station it is."

"Alright. Just...give me a second." Sam closed her eyes, taking stock of the aches in her body, and which ones were already healing. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, and she just leaned over into Kimberly for a moment. It wasn't really a conscious action, but it _was_ pretty comforting, even (especially?) with Kimberly's small noise of surprise.

She got up, leaning on Kimberly, and moved away to pick up the nearest blonde. "Come on," she sighed, and took off in the direction of the police station.


	4. Chapter 4

They regrouped at the arcade, climbing into Jason's truck. Sam called her dad, explaining the change of plans, and promising there wasn't a giant robot about to come out of the ocean (that she knew of). She said nothing of the fight behind the arcade, honestly hoping that the bruises would be healed by the time she got home and she wouldn't have to worry about it.

"Alright," she said, clambering into the back of the pickup. "Beach?"

"My house," Kimberly said. "I figured you'd want your stuff, or at least something you don't mind swimming in."

"Good point." Sam stretched out next to Kimberly, laying flat in the bed so they wouldn't be seen. Passengers in the back weren't strictly illegal, but they didn't want to test the thin ice Jason was still on.

The truck pulled out of the parking lot, and Sam tried to push her hair out of her face, realizing belatedly that the chain she'd snatched off Amanda's neck was still in her hand.

"What is that thing?" Kimberly asked, seeing Sam inspecting the cracked stone.

Sam dangled it in over her face. "I'm not sure." It wasn't strictly a lie; she didn't know what it was, or what it had done. She just had ideas. She foresaw a lot of afternoons spent in the command center with Alpha and Zordon once she got a chance to show it to them.

For now, she let her hand drop and her eyes close, and just tried to rest.

* * *

"At least they survived. Mostly." Sam wrinkled her nose at the state of the clothes she'd changed out of. They were streaked with dirt and what she suspected was some kind of mechanical oil, but that could be washed out. There no tears that she could see, which was a huge relief. She was pretty sure the store wouldn't accept "alien street fight" as a reason to return them.

"I'm sorry," Kimberly said. She had changed as well, and was sitting on the bed with an expression that was equal parts stricken and exhausted.

"Hey, they were after  _ me _ ," Sam retorted, folding the shirt up and putting it in a separate bag.

"But they used Amanda for it," Kimberly said. "I just... _ again... _ "

Sam caught the thread of what she was trying to say, and sat next to her. She took her hand, without hesitation this time, and Kimberly looked over her in surprise.

"We don't know that he targeted her directly," she said firmly. "His ultimate goal was me, or the team, or both - I'm not going to claim to understand the inner workings of an intergalactic psychopath." She squeezed Kimberly's hand. "There's plenty out there trying to beat you up. You don't have to do it to yourself."

Kimberly hesitated, then turned her hand over to grip Sam's in turn. "You're right," she whispered. "I'm still upset, though." Sam opened her mouth to repeat herself, but Kimberly kept talking. "I wasted this _whole day_ being a nervous mess, when if I'd just opened my stupid mouth I might have actually been able to deal with what Amanda - Zedd - _whatever_ was throwing at me." She looked at Sam through her hair. "I was more worried about what you might think of me."

"Nothing anybody says is going to change what I think." Sam paused, licking her lips. Her heart had somehow managed  _ triple-time,  _ and she wondered again about Rangers and heart attacks. The nervous energy made her jaw lock up, but she finally managed to force it open and amend the last part of her sentence. "How I feel."

Kimberly moved her hand again, lacing their fingers together. "We both know what the other wants to say, don't we," she said quietly, laced with a little ironic humor.

"I think so," Sam said. "Because it's what we want to say ourselves. Probably." She was looking down at their joined hands, and trying to figure out if it was actually happening, or if she was passed out in the rear parking lot, having some kind of concussion-induced fever dream.

"Okay," Kimberly said, with a nervous waver in her voice that made Sam look up at her. "On three?"

Sam's heart seized, and her lungs suddenly seemed two sizes too small. "On three," she whispered.

Kimberly held up her free hand, counting down on her fingers. When her hand was closed, they both spoke at the same time.

"I have the biggest crush on you and it's turning me into an idiot."

"I've liked you since I met you and today was basically a date but I was scared to actually ask you out."

Kimberly's admission was a little longer than Sam's, and she flushed as the sentence trailed into the silence of the room. A smile spread across Sam's face, and Kimberly matched it, the both of them just kind of sitting there smiling at each other.

Then Sam's phone went off, making them both jump, laughing at their own nerves. She fumbled it out of her pocket, not quite willing to let go of Kimberly's hand yet.

_you have two minutes before I start blowing the horn <<_

"Jason's rushing me," she muttered, looking back up at Kimberly.

"Yeah, I guess we can't stay here the rest of the day," Kimberly said, and there was a thread of nervousness, like she didn't know how Sam would take the tease.

Sam took it by blushing and ducking her head. "Maybe next time," she returned, and when she glanced at Kimberly she was gratified to see a similar blush across her face.

Sam stood, releasing Kimberly's hand with no small reluctance. "Oh," Kimberly said, standing with her. "Hang on."

"I'd love to -" Sam started to say, but cut herself off as Kimberly reached for her hair. "It's all messed up again." Her fingers smoothed through what Sam realized now was essentially a rat's nest.

"Sit down," Kimberly directed. "I'll be quick."

She was true to her word, quickly brushing through the tangles, muttering apologies when Sam winced. When the ponytail was back in place, Kimberly looked at Sam in the mirror, cocking her head.

"I know we said this already," she said, meeting Sam's eyes in her reflection. "But fuck Amanda. You look perfect."

Sam flushed again, glancing away from Kimberly's fond smile in the mirror. "No you" was the best response she could muster, and Kimberly laughed out loud.

"Come on," she said. "Let's not keep them waiting."

"Yeah." Sam stood, collecting her bags, and turned back to Kimberly. They just stared at each other for a moment, then Kimberly stepped forward, dropping a kiss on Sam's forehead.

"Next time," she murmured, "we'll just go to Starbucks."

Sam grinned widely. Kimberly had apparently recovered a lot more quickly from the earlier conversation than she had, and her straight-forward attitude was doing wonders for Sam, who was still reeling from the combination of _I said that_ and _she said it back._

"Next time," she said.

Outside, the truck horn went off, a continuous blast like someone sat on a goat. Kimberly winced.

"Is it supposed to sound like that?"

"No," Sam said wearily. "He keeps it extra-annoying on purpose."

“ Eugh.” They grinned at each other as Sam turned towards the door, navigating her way back through the house, Kimberly behind her.

Even with the dead-goat cacophony outside, she stopped in front of the hall mirror. Her face was still flushed, and her smile hadn't faded.

 _It's a good look,_ she decided, even with the bruises still yellowing on her temple and cheekbone. _I think I'll keep it.  
_

* * *

Sam came up the beach, flopping next to Kimberly in the sand.

"All those new clothes," she teased, "just to roll in the dirt."

"I'm embracing my inner Labrador," Sam retorted, smiling up at her.

Kimberly gave a brief snort of laughter, reaching over to tug on Sam's ponytail affectionately. Sam grinned, leaning back and stretching out next to her, arms behind her head. The sounds of Trini, Zack and Jason initiating a three-way splash war echoed around the beach, and the sand beneath her was warm from the sun, as was Kimberly, where Sam's arm rested against her.

It was a pretty great end, she thought, to a hell of a mixed bag of a day.

In a manifestation of her worst fears, Sam came face-to-face with Amanda almost first thing Monday morning. She just stopped, one hand on the strap of her backpack, and waited. Amanda crossed her arms, uncrossed them, and finally tossed her hair before stomping off without saying a word.

As she left, Kimberly was revealed to be leaning against the corner not too far behind her. Sam's stony expression melted into one of relief as she walked over to join her.

"Hovering much?" she teased as they began to walk down the hall. Kimberly flashed a smile, but not much of one.

"Just seeing how much she remembered." Kimberly looked over her shoulder at Amanda's retreating back. "Not much, it looks like."

"It's for the best," Sam sighed. "I got up stupid-early this morning to run the necklace over to Alpha. He'll either have nothing on it or I'm getting an extra lecture this afternoon."

"I'll go with you," Kimberly said. "Totally for the lecture and not at all to try to spend as much time with you as possible."

Her hand reached out and caught Sam's, accompanied by a much more sincere grin. Sam's heart jumped at the sight, and at the gentle pressure of Kimberly's fingers in hers, and she gave a smile of her own.

There was something on the wind, she knew. Something rotten in the state of Angel Grove, as it were. But this? This exact moment, with her hand in Kimberly's, a tiny token of what they'd started to build together?

It was pretty perfect.

  
  
  



End file.
